One did try to disclaim responsibility. As the hoi polloi piled onto Adam Goodes in 2015, the AFL tried to keep itself at arm’s length, figuring that any intervention would serve only to inflame. In the end, it was the failure to intervene that proved inflammatory. It was the worst misjudgment of Gillon McLachlan’s soon-to-end tenure.
So in dealing with social ills, a ruling sports body always has a part to play. But it won’t do to over-play the power of that part. By apologising, issuing high-minded statements and sometimes imposing sanctions, sports authorities give the impression that they’re on top of the issue and soon it will all go away.
Josh Cavallo.Credit:Getty Images
It won’t. It isn’t. Take the AFL as an example. They can crack down on those in their employ: players, officials, now lewd male umpires. They might be able to crack down on neanderthal fans at grounds, if they can identify them. Increasingly, they can.
They have no hope of exerting authority in the parks and junior leagues, which is where the most egregious stories of umpire abuse to emerge this week took place. The AFL apologised to umpires on behalf of “the game”, but their remit stops at the gate of the stadium. The game, as demonstrated this week, is vast, anarchic and for some, frightening. It is not the AFL that has a 6000 shortfall of umpires.
Yes, authorities can and do lead by (flawed) example. By and large, big time sports are more inclusive than they once were. Cavallo has been to feel comfortable, Collingwood are Doing Better, the AFL has the back at least of their own umpires. Some of the improvement is real, some token, some perhaps even over-correction, all of it on a spectrum.
Yet still racist, sexist and homophobic epithets fly, across the fence, in cyberspace, at every level. The vilification of women umpires is only the latest instance. Something in the nature of sport draws out the worst in us as a society even as it showcases the best, and it’s disturbing to know it. It’s also disingenuous always to say that “they” should do something when we’re the problem.
Tayla Harris.Credit:Getty Images
Betts is right. It’s an all-of-Australia, all-of-the-time project. There’s cause for cautious optimism. Three years ago, when vile trolls descended on Tayla Harris after the publication of a spectacular photo of her kicking, anti-trolls rose up and won back the day. It was an empowering moment.
That’s the big-time. Around the same time, at an amateur match in suburban Melbourne, a spectator let fly a homophobic slur at a player, whereupon a nearby spectator, a clubmate of the player and usually one of the silent majority, looked across and said: “That’s enough.”
